Reds and Blues
by Sue Shay
Summary: Drabbles to make the heart go "awww". Sometimes angst. Sometimes fluff. Sometimes harsh. Never connected to one another. Always a hundred words. Rated "T" to be on the safe side. As always, I don't own The Mentalist characters or the concept. I make no money off these simple offerings. (Yanno, the site counts these differently than MS-WORD! IRKSOME!)
1. Upping the Auntie

One car crash and three adults dead.

Her brother Tommy was gone. Niece Annie was gone. Annie's husband Jared? Gone. The one left was six-month-old Baby Daniel, staying that night with babysitting Aunt Reese.

Why did traumatic loss always involve drunk drivers taking Lisbon's loved ones while leaving her with massive responsibilities? And when did Fate decide it was time to up the ante in making life harder for Lisbon?

She stared into the cradle as a warm arm wrapped around her waist. She looked at Patrick.

"We'll take good care of him," he said.

* * *

**_FYI: The spelling in the chapter title is intentionally spelled as it is. A very bad pun, I know._**


	2. Blood Diamonds

Twenty grand, easy.

Diamonds shone across the front of the ring, announcing how valuable that engagement ring was.

It had sparkled with the brightness that had once been her future.

Until she shot Craig.

Now it was stained red as she gripped at his wounded chest while he tore off the necklace.

Blood diamonds? Yes, the blood of all Red John's victims.

_He_ had chosen that ring for Craig to give her. The sight of it on her finger shot poison into her heart.

She removed it from a finger slick with Craig's blood and threw it into the woods.


	3. Weekends suck!

It was a weekend that the SCU was not on call.

When five o'clock Friday hit, the bullpen cleared out like it had been gassed. Lisbon's office went dark. Except for distant noises from another unit, all grew quiet on the fifth floor.

He put his tea on the table and picked up a book from the TBR pile before settling on the couch. Another human psychology book to be scoffed at. Arrogant doctors!

The pages flew past. He turned on the lamp to continue reading. The big, empty room was quiet like a tomb.

God, how he hated weekends!


	4. People Change

_Y'all not gonna like this one… :-(_

* * *

It was a letter he never expected. It was accompanied by a photo and a court order to submit a certified DNA sample.

When that fan swore she was on the Pill, he actually believed her. The tryst in the limo was fast, furious and obviously fertile. His arrogant stupidity at the time provided ready justification for his actions. Angela was pregnant and didn't want sex, and he was just an asshole.

Now Jane held a photo of a curly-headed fifteen-year-old blond boy which provided proof of his one instance of infidelity to his wife.

"I'm sorry, Angela," he whispered.

* * *

_I confess that I can imagine his self-indulgent personality allowing him to justify it BEFORE Red John killed Annie & Charlotte. Think of the lying to Lisbon he's done, justifying it as a necessity to get what he wants._

_But I don't think that Team Heller have this sort of thing in his character arc and the Jane I have in my head never would. Still, I decided to explore the possibility._

_Thanks for reading. These are just for fun, anyway. :)_

_Cheers,_  
_Sue_

_PS: I moved a sentence and I think it reads better now._


	5. Shifting

He was bored with his toy Patrick Jane. The little faker had once been quite amusing but now he was an irritation, merely a thorn in Red John's side.

It was easy to tell when Patrick's status changed. Dinner for two, intimate Napa restaurant, nightcap at Ms. Lisbon's apartment, slipping out right after dawn. Red John's mole at the SCU reported Monday night that the quarry was now turning into a determined hunter with renewed spark in his eye.

Patrick's use of the strumpet had almost worked. It was _too_ close.

Now Red John was going to end the game.


	6. And Baby Makes Three

Pretty green eyes gleamed into her papa's; a toothless smile filled her face.

Papa cooed, lifting the soft cloth from the warm water and stroking the delicate skin. Baby Girl gurgled back happily, waving her arms in that jerky way of emotional infants.

"Who's my little girl, then?" Papa said. "Who has Mama's gorgeous eyes, too?"

Mama stepped up to the open bathroom door, smoothing down her nightgown. Baby Girl smacked her hand into the water, splashing Papa's face, making him grimace.

Smiles remained on all their faces.

"And who has Papa's troublemaking ways?" Mama asked, handing him a towel.


	7. California Has No Seasons

Wayne and Grace stood in line together, waiting to order coffee. He watched as she closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun, enjoying their first clear weather in two weeks.

He remembered many times when her face wasn't nearly as relaxed, but instead tight with ecstasy as they moved together in love. Then he would return to concentrating on his own pleasure, trying to arrive at paradise when she did.

The queue moved forward, jarring him from his thoughts.

They say California has no seasons but whenever Wayne stood near Grace, it was the season of love.


	8. The Half-Truth of Gerbera Daisies

The colors in the old wooden cart were dazzling. Flowers of all types and sizes, snuggling together in the black pots of water, their warm faces glowing upward as if anticipating arrival at a new home.

Jane chose the biggest gerbera daisies, mostly yellows, oranges and whites. Lisbon didn't seem like a pink flower kind of lady. Roses would be better but they told too much truth. Right now Jane only wanted to guide her thoughts, not scare her away.

The florist arranged the two dozen in a tasteful glass vase, and Jane carried them off to CBI, whistling happily.


	9. Coach Cho

"Coach!"

From his clipboard, Cho saw a young teen racing into the dugout, winded.

"Blaine, you're early. S'up? Why aren't you in school?"

"My brother Stevie…shot…" The boy sucked air. "He's at Sacramento General."

Stevie was Cho's favorite pitcher, cleaning up his act after a stay at Juvie. He couldn't be in trouble again after their hard work together.

Cho looked at his assistant coach.

"Take over here, Anders. Blaine? Come with me."

He led the boy toward his car at a lope. "What happened?"

"He jumped the gang, Coach. He wanted you to be proud of him."

"I am."


	10. Save Him From Himself

_**Written for the Paint It Red April 2013 Monthly Challenge - prompt: "Save Me" by Bo Bruce. One hundred word drabble!**_

* * *

He was a sporty bad boy and he knew it, right down to his masochistic streak.

But she loved him.

He was the ultimate package of emotional danger, a hazard to every tender heart.

She protected him.

He justified his cruelty as necessary for drawing the light of truth from the darkness of evil.

She brought him victims.

He was hard and self-centered and irreverent to everything she held dear.

She showed him how to get around the rules.

She also saved him from the demons that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.

And he loved her.


	11. Novena 5 Month 1

Badass, they called her. Tough as a cinderblock holding cell, they said she was. Doesn't take shit from anyone, especially those jackasses at the FBI.

That's what everyone said, but they didn't really know her.

She cried herself to sleep when he disappeared. Not a word from him. Not a text.

Her heart raced every time her phone rang. Had he finally ended it all? Was he dead?

Genuflecting, she settled into the pew and brought her rosary between her fingers. She was on the fifth day of her novena and wondering if any of it would do any good.


	12. And Nothing But The Truth

It was old school, just as he liked it.

A typewriter and a stack of paper. This would be the saga of the decade! Of the century! Tales of intrigue, adventure, romance (although he'd keep Rigsby and Van Pelt out of it), and ultimately genius detective work. The highest bidding publisher would get exclusive print rights to the finished manuscript _The Demise of Red John_. The typebars clacked as the words flowed, depicting his actions with the greatest glory.

He reread the words and then ripped the paper from the platen.

Maybe he'd leave writing the memoir to Lisbon.


	13. Lisbon's Entertaining Trouble

Lisbon rinsed the grounds from her coffee mug and placed the vessel in the dishwasher.

_So, another day ending with the bad guy perp-walked from the building_.

It irked her that success was directly attributable to the unorthodox genius of her insufferable consultant, the handsome blond man with the dangerous smile.

She looked up at the sound of juvenile giggling. The aforementioned blond was in the bullpen juggling plastic bags containing evidence from the recent case, much to the delight of Van Pelt's visiting niece, laughing up a storm.

Lisbon growled and charged forward.

"Jane! Put those down! Now!


	14. She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

"She loves me, she loves me not," he said, plucking the petals off the daisy. "She loves me…"

"Jane? Do you want to come look at our victim, please?"

He plucked three more petals, murmuring the expected script as he approached the CBI agents gathered around a body. Obviously a murder since most people lacked the ability to stab themselves in the back.

A white daisy petal landed in the lumbar region of the body. He looked at Lisbon, smiling hopefully.

"So, do you?" he asked.

"Not. _Until_ after _you_ get back to work," she warned pointing at the body.


	15. Something Had To Be Done

_This drabble inspired by Cumberland River Relic's recent post. Go check it out!_

* * *

He liked to watch people. He was a student of human nature.

They liked to think themselves more unique than they were, but predictability was their byword. In fact, he counted on it.

Even, to some extent, his wonderful quarry Jane. The couch, the Aerie, the cemetery, even the same barber every month.

But from there, his lovely prey was unlike any opposition he'd ever faced. Jane was a true challenge, although sometimes even _he_ disappointed by bending to the will of Senior Agent Lisbon.

Tsk, tsk. Something had to be done to minimize how often that happened. Something soon.


	16. Two O'Clock Nap

He couldn't sleep.

Again.

After the death of Red John, it wasn't long before his brutish nightmares morphed into healing dreams of Angela and Charlotte smiling at him. Dreaming of them that way allowed him to close, although never forget, that segment of his life.

Now he couldn't sleep because of the Big Nap at two o'clock when he stretched out on the Jane residence sofa with eighteen pounds on his chest. Baby Thomas lay on Daddy, absorbing his warmth, hearing his heart beat. Patrick wouldn't risk their baby falling. Besides, Teresa would kill him.

Of course he couldn't sleep!


	17. Morning Sun She's Not!

_I have no idea where this came from. I was listening to Rory Gallagher/Taste's song _Morning Sun_ and got to thinking of how Jane and Lisbon would be first thing in the morning if they lived together._

* * *

She would have loved to stay in bed, regardless of how wonderful the promised coffee.

Jane was impossible. Despite the late hour when they arrived home, he was up and chipper with the first call from the AG's office. It was annoying how he sang in the shower, despite the high quality of his singing voice. She was glad when he finished and went down to brew the k-cup of extra strong stuff for her.

Yawning, she entered the bath and started her routine. Teeth, shower, hair, deodorant, makeup.

Jane shoved the mug in her hand, grinning.

Finally!


	18. Never Cried

**With all the bad news flying around, my mood is sorely affected. I wrote this needing to vent or something...**

* * *

Lisbon didn't cry. Ever. At least not since becoming a cop.

Yes, she was devastated and stricken when her mother died, but she managed to keep it all in during the loss of her father. She had all those boys to take care of, after all.

Somehow she kept it together when Bosco and his team were so ruthless slaughtered. And when Jane disappeared for six months, she screamed and raged and vomited…

But she never cried.

Now the tears flowed freely as Patrick took her hand and held it tightly.

"I'm so sorry, my love. We lost the baby."


	19. Drinking the KoolAid Again

Once again, she drank the KoolAid.

It was another crazy Jane Plan. Anyone else proposing it would have enraged her and she would have ripped him a new asshole. But somehow coming from Jane, it seemed perfectly natural to be in City Hall, dragged there by the confident Know-It-All next to her.

Committed. She said 'yes' and meant it. As much as she complained about him, she also trusted him.

With her life, even.

The judge before them smiled.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Jane."


	20. The Final Battle

The air zinged with flying bullets as CBI fought it out against the cornered assailant and his minions. Even at twenty yards away, a stray round shattered a chunk of wood over Patrick Jane's head.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way! Jane wanted to take that evil life with his own hands.

Cho screamed as his flesh was ripped open. Lisbon screamed too but in rage. Taking careful aim, she fired and then yelled in triumph.

"I got him! I got Red John!"

The barrage died. Patrick rushed forward and hugged Lisbon.

She was safe. _That's_ what mattered most.


End file.
